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MISADVENTURES IN PARADISE
ii. A REALLY GOOD LAWYER

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   MANIPULATING THE PUBLIC'S OPINION was easy when Riley already knew everything they wanted to hear.

   They wanted her to feed them everything the press was already shoving down their throats — as if it would mean more coming from her silver spoon than a stranger's plastic one. In hindsight, maybe it would, considering she had the public wrapped around her finger, and they had no clue.

   All it took was a little distraction and deflection before the press and public began to crumble. The more confused they were, the more conflicted they became, and the less heat there was on Peter. Did it change the fact that he was facing murder accusations? No. Did the public really learn much from the Avengers' responses to the press's questions? Not one bit. But it gave them time. In her experience, time was a ticking bomb waiting to erupt. When used at the right moment, however, it could prove itself to be useful.

   Unfortunately, her comments, or rather lack thereof, got her in some slight trouble with her old friends at the Department of Damage Control.

   Riley leaned back in her chair, giving Special Agent Cleary a little wave as he entered the interrogation room. He stopped in his tracks, his bewilderment evident, even beneath the fluorescents' glare.

   "Where are your handcuffs?" he demanded.

   "I didn't want them."

   "What?"

   "I told the guy no, and he said okay. He said it'd be easier to ask for an autograph if I wasn't handcuffed anyway." Riley giggled. "I'm kidding! You can laugh if you have time between interrogating innocent children for no reason. Speaking of, I imagine they've already requested lawyers, meaning you haven't gotten shit out of them. Am I right?"

   Agent Cleary sat across from her. "That wasn't your choice. It was a safety precaution."

   "Handcuffing a victim?" Riley reiterated. "For who's safety? Mine?"

   "So, you agree you're a victim of Peter Parker's vigilantism?"

   "No, I'm a victim of drone attacks."

   "Drones that were authorized by Peter Parker."

   "Did the drones tell you that?" she cooed.

   "This is a serious matter, Miss Stark. Your lack of cooperation could lead to four of your dear friends — Roman, Ms. Jones-Watson, Mr. Leeds, and Mr. Parker — being arrested for their respective involvement in a murder, and a woman, as lovely as May Parker is, could lose her child to foster care," Agent Cleary warned. "Is this the road you wanna take?"

   "That depends. Are we stopping halfway for snacks?"

   Agent Cleary sighed.

   The system was Riley's playground growing up, meaning she'd been in this position many times. Out of those many times, she'd gotten out of it by telling the truth, and another handful of times, she'd lied her way out of it. She'd been interrogated by all kinds of agents, most commonly self-righteous jerks that wanted to look good in front of their boss by catching an Avenger on an off-day. But, of course, out of those many times, she'd never let any of them make her sweat.

   She knew what she was doing. She'd said so when she crossed paths with Roman, Peter, MJ, Ned, and May on her way to her interrogation. Well, she hadn't exactly said it, but they could all read the look burning in her eyes.

   "You read my mission report, yes?" Riley asked.

   "Of course."

   "Then, you're aware of the facts. Let me refresh your memory in case you forgot." She leaned across the cold metal table. "One, you have a stain on your shirt the size of the Louisiana Purchase. Two, the drones were stolen. That was, quite literally, out of my hands."

   Agent Cleary indiscreetly adjusted his jacket. "You're a Stark, aren't you? Couldn't you have just stolen them back?"

   "Agent, when there's a bomb threat or an active shooter in an area, what's the number one thing you're not supposed to do?" Riley waited, but he didn't answer. "Provoke the attacker. The drones were stolen by some very trigger-happy hands."

   "You claimed in your mission report that Quentin Beck stole the drones, yet there's video evidence of Mr. Parker issuing an execution order—"

   "And where are these victims everyone keeps mentioning?" Riley clipped. "I keep hearing all this chit-chat about executions and drones killing innocents, but I was there the whole time, Agent. I was destroying the drones and keeping the people safe. All I saw in the news were reports of mild injuries. It's unfortunate, but not necessarily a synonym for death, I believe."

   "Fair enough," he unwillingly said. "Still doesn't explain why a child had access to weapons of that variety."

   "Fair enough," Riley mocked. "Unfortunately, I'm not the one in charge of this nation's questionable gun control laws or their apparently flexible child labor laws, not that that's relevant, but if we're on the topic of trying to figure out when the government gives a shit about children—"

   "You're deflecting."

   "You're dragging this out. If I perceived Mr. Parker as a threat, he would be behind bars."

   "And you're certain your... personal relationship with Peter Parker hasn't compromised your ability to work this case?"

   "Agent, I've been working since I could walk. I put my own friends in the RAFT before," Riley said. "Don't question my work performance when my reputation precedes me."

   Agent Cleary chose to move on. "Years ago, you were reported assisting Spider-Man in his vigilantism across New York."

   "Would you call saving cats from trees vigilantism?" Riley turned to the two-sided mirror with a look that read, "Can you believe this guy?"

   "I'm just trying to understand the facts," he assured. "Tony Stark employed Mr. Parker for an internship, known as the Stark Internship, that never existed until they became acquainted. Was this to enable his vigilantism? How premeditated was Quentin Beck's death?"

   "Quentin Beck was the one who attempted to kill me, Peter, and countless others. Did you even do your research?" Riley retorted. "It sounds to me like you're trying to find someone to blame, but last I recalled, I'm a victim here."

   "A victim of your family's tech?" Agent Cleary mocked. "What happened? Get caught sneaking out? Stay out past curfew?"

   "Tech isn't the same thing as having a child. It doesn't belong to just one or two people. It doesn't have a mind of its own. It can be stolen, hacked, and used against its nonexistent will. Accessibility can be breached. Protocols can and will waver in the wrong hands," Riley clarified. "I've given my report. I've made my claims. If we're going to keep talking in circles, I think it's safe to say this date is over."

   Though Riley and her friends barely survived the DODC's interrogations, they still ended up meeting with a lawyer.

   "Stark Industries was caught in the web of the Spider-Man-Mysterio controversy today when federal agents opened an investigation into missing Stark technology. The agents wanna know what exactly was taken..."

   Riley's chin rested in her palm as she watched the news at the Parker apartment the next morning. At least the DODC was finally investigating what happened to the tech. Surely, this would lead to word getting out about Beck being responsible for those attacks across Europe. It was a PR nightmare, one that Pepper was now actively handling as CEO of Stark Industries. Then again, despite its pride as a clean energy company, Stark Industries was never famous for its clean reputation anyway. The most that would happen was security would increase, stocks would fluctuate, and Stark Industries would bounce back by next year.

   Riley was still getting over the guilt of playing a hand in this whole nightmare. In her defense, when she was gifted JOCASTA, she never thought to give JO away or to accidentally trigger a kill order against one of her friends! And she was 14 and filled with teen angst at the time!

   There was no point in wallowing in guilt or self-pity though. It was better that she and Tony focused on fixing all of this for Peter.

   An old photo of Happy with a mullet flashed across the screen, alongside his own quote, "No comment at this time." Despite how he cringed, Happy said, "At least they used a good picture."

   "What is happening?" Peter muttered. Worry lines carved deeper into his forehead as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Even Riley's hand on his knee hardly kept it from bobbing up and down.

   "That's great, thank you," Matt Murdock said into his phone as he took the extra chair at the breakfast table.

   Out of everything the Starks were doing to assist Peter, both directly and indirectly, finding a lawyer was the easiest part. Matt, a blind lawyer with some seriously cool red sunglasses, was the one who found Riley first. She still had no idea how he snuck up on her so easily, considering she should've heard his walking stick tapping the ground behind her.

   "Well, I have some good news, Peter," Matt announced. "I don't believe any of the charges against you are gonna stick."

   "Wait, seriously?" Peter asked, perking up. His hand instinctively found Riley's under the table as everyone rejoiced. Relief clouded the apartment. "My God, Mr. Murdock, thank you. That's amazing!"

   "I knew it!" May cheered. "Thank you, Matt!"

   "Yes, thank you so much, Matt," Riley chimed.

   "Of course," Matt said with a pleased smile. "If I'm being honest, Miss Stark, you got incredibly lucky. All federal investigations are shifting focus toward Stark Industries' security. Since you're still a minor and were seen as a primary victim of the drone attacks, it's highly improbable anyone can blame you for any of this. Your parents won't get much more than a slap on the wrist since their tech being hijacked isn't technically their fault. It's like blaming a bank for having money that could hypothetically be stolen. However... Mr. Hogan?"

   "Yes?" Happy beamed.

   "The feds are actively investigating that missing technology," Matt reminded. "I understand you're loyal to Mr. Stark and his legacy, but if you were involved..."

   His smile fell. "If I was involved?"

   "I advise securing a lawyer."

   "I need a lawyer because I'm un...? I'm under inves... I thought you said he was— You said there's no charge. I could, I could say, under the advisement of counsel, uh, I refuse to answer the question, respectfully, because the answer can incriminate me— because—" Happy stuttered. "It-It's in Goodfellas. What's the thing they say in Goodfellas?"

   "Happy, please shut up," Riley tried.

   May raised a hand. "Happy, Happy, I know that's what you think. Calm down. Let's hear what he has to say. Matt?"

   "You're gonna need a really good lawyer," Matt simply said, which didn't soothe Happy's newfound anxiety one bit. "Peter, you may have dodged your legal troubles, but things will get much worse. There is still the court of public opinion. Luckily, you seem to have found an excellent publicist."

   A shy smile found its way to Riley's face, but before she could speak again, the window shattered as a brick was chucked into the apartment. Peter's instincts were quick, but Matt's were quicker. He caught it before it collided with Peter's face.

   "MURDERER!" someone outside hollered. "MYSTERIO FOREVER!"

   Dumbfounded, Riley glanced between the brick, then Matt, then the brick, then Matt.

   "How did you just do that?" Peter asked, slowly taking the brick from him. It was wrapped in newspaper. WE BELIEVE MYSTERIO was written in bold red letters, except it was spelled incorrectly, making it: WE BELEIVE MYSTERIO.

   "I'm a really good lawyer," Matt said.

   Riley eyed the lawyer, only to shrug. She didn't have time to worry about another man's secrets.

   "This is getting worse," she said. "How long have they been camped outside the building?"

   "Since the news got out," May replied. "We're gonna need a safer place to live."

   Happy was a little too quick to offer his two-bedroom apartment to the Parkers.

   Although Tony had gotten rid of his extra properties after the Decimation, he offered to pay for the Parkers' room and board wherever they desired. He even suggested sending them out of state, perhaps on a deserted island or deep in the countryside where no one could bother them, but Matt (and Happy — especially Happy) strongly advised against it.

   Tony and Happy ended up reaching a compromise. The Parkers would seek refuge with Happy in his admittedly very well-secured apartment as long as he took DUM-E, too. It didn't make sense, considering that robot arm was an extremely stupid piece of intelligence, but maybe it would help Tony sleep at night, knowing a piece of his heart was with the Parkers.

   Or maybe he was giving DUM-E away because Morgan recently "trained" it to sneak her sweets before dinner.

   At least it wasn't a dangerous piece of Stark tech. The only harm it could do was accidentally slap your glass of water off the table.

   The numerous locks on Happy's apartment door clicked as May punched in the passcode. Riley, Roman, and Tony were right behind the Parkers, carrying boxes and suitcases of their belongings. As the door swung open, an alarm shrieked in their ears.

   "Oh! Ah!" May turned to the screen hung up on the wall, aggressively tapping buttons in hopes of shutting off the alarm. "How do we...? How do we...?"

   Riley jumped, eyes squeezing shut. She nearly dropped everything in her arms and blasted through Happy's security system. Instead, she froze, muscles tense enough to make her joints ache. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until the alarm system was deactivated, and a hand squeezed her shoulder.

   "You alright?" Tony asked. He was wearing a baseball cap and his signature sunglasses, which did nothing to hide his identity.

   "Yeah," Riley weakly said. "I love noise. I love it so much. Sudden noise, it's the best. Really brings me back to my happy place."

   "You have a happy place?" Peter asked as he looked around Happy's place. "Funny, so do we."

   "I have never wanted to hit you more in my life than right now," Roman groaned.

   "Yes, you have."

   "Yeah, you're right."

   May sighed as DUM-E cheerfully waved at them. "This looks nice. And safe."

   "Oh, this is awkward," Tony said. His jaw fell when DUM-E's hand became a fist, its middle finger greeting him instead. "Excuse me? Is that any way to greet your god?" He glanced toward the teenagers. "Which one of you munchkins corrupted DUM-E?"

   "Dunno what you're talking about, Mr. Stark," Peter said as he set his belongings down. He took Riley's boxes, offering a warm smile. He'd been smiling a bit more since their meeting with Matt. It made Riley feel better. Finally, everything she'd been doing was beginning to pay off.

   "Have you considered the toxic environment you raised the poor robot in?" Riley returned.

   "Sounds like bad parenting to me."

   "Horrible parenting."

   "DUM-E?" Tony sternly asked, causing DUM-E to point between Peter and Riley. "Yeah, that checks out. Sort of. My money was on Rome."

   "And that's why I love playing poker with you," Roman happily said. "Stealing from the rich is my favorite pastime."

   "Aw, look at him, Ri." Peter pinched Roman's cheeks. "MJ's written all over him."

   Roman swatted his hand. "I'll steal from you, too."

   "I'm broke."

   Roman stared at him. "But you're the most famous person in the world?"

   "People aren't exactly throwing money at murderers."

   Everyone's eyes shifted toward Tony for only a moment before Roman settled, "Fine. I'll make you broker."

   "Oh no, I'm so scared of an alien who doesn't know 'broker' isn't a word and sleeps with a stuffed unicorn."

   "That was a gift from Morgan," Roman hissed.

   Happy finally emerged through the open door, carrying a plastic potted plant and another suitcase. "Welcome to the spiritual oasis! You kids like Donkey Kong Jr.?"

   "Hap? Is that you?" Tony gasped, pulling his old friend into a hug. "I wasn't sure. It's only been a million years since we got up here. What's going on? I told you, you're more than welcome to join Riley and me for pilates."

   Happy rolled his eyes.

   The Starks ended up sticking around until nighttime, making sure the Parkers were safe and settled. As Riley helped May and Roman clean the kitchen after dinner, she couldn't help but eavesdrop as Tony helped Peter remove the green paint stuck to his suit.

   "I just wanna thank you for all of this," Peter was saying.

   "For what? We haven't made any progress with this paint. They couldn't have used a more flattering color, at least? I don't suppose we could send it out for dry cleaning..."

   "I mean for everything else," Peter said. "I know it's... inconvenient, dragging you out of retirement and everything."

   "You're thanking me for partly being the reason why you're the world's favorite murderer right now?" Tony returned. "Don't feel bad, kid. I was looking for a reason to get out of the house anyway. The alpaca's been driving me insane."

   "I know, I just... You and Riley always do so much for me... I don't know how I can ever repay you guys."

   "Let me stop you right there. I don't need anything from you."

   "But—"

   "Besides," Riley could envision Tony's cheeky smile, "aren't you broke?"

   Peter stifled a soft laugh. "Just wait until those scholarships start rolling in. You think I have a shot at getting into MIT?"

   "Maybe if you'd let me put in a word—" A pause. "Yeah, yeah. I know. You wanna get in on your own merit. Boring. Chivalry is such a snooze-fest."

   "I can see what Mrs. Potts sees in you."

   "I tell you, all I have to do is bat my eyes, and she's swoon," Tony bantered. "Hey, for the record? You're not a chore. You're a person. A person I happen to be slightly fond of. Anything you need, even if it's five bucks or a ride home, I'm there, even when you're all the way in Boston. As long as you keep giving me reasons to visit, kicking ass, and making my kid happy, we can call it even. Deal?"

   Oh, what Riley would've given to see Peter's blushing face.

   "Deal."